


Freddie, 1969

by TheSchubita



Series: It Comes To You As To Us All [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Complicated Relationships, Developing Relationship, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Multi, Self-Esteem Issues, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22435213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSchubita/pseuds/TheSchubita
Summary: Just because you live in a world where everyone is fated for someone, doesn't mean happiness will be handed to you on a silver platter.Or the one where Brian believes in soulmates, Roger doesn't, Freddie just wants to belong, and only John even remotely has his shit together.-High on Brian's neck, right under his hairline, was a tiny speck of silver, twinkling at Freddie cheerfully in all its bird-shaped glory.Holy shit.
Relationships: John Deacon/Brian May/Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Series: It Comes To You As To Us All [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601965
Comments: 15
Kudos: 48





	Freddie, 1969

**Author's Note:**

> Part II of this Baby :) Thank you all for the comments on the first one!
> 
> This one's a bit shorter than the first part, whoops :/.
> 
> Okay, so I had this lying around for over a year and it's part of a much bigger, unfinished work. I'll be posting the finished parts eventually, but in a non-chronological order as a series. 
> 
> This is a soulmate!AU, where everyone has soulmarks, and everyone has different 'kinds' of soulmarks - a world with endless possibilities. This deals with everyone's views of soulmates, and some are quite different than others, which leads to glorious angst, what I am best at at writing, lmao.
> 
> These are not beta'ed, and keep in mind written from October 2018 - February 2019, and since I'm not a native English speaker/writer, I'm sure there are some errors. However, I decided to post these while trying to overcome my writer's block for Sleepless Nights, hoping that rereading them might spark inspiration anew. I do still love this fandom and everyone contributing to it so dedicatedly, but I am a bit of a fickle writer, so I'm sorry you guys T_T. However, I'm not doing a /new/ project per se, as this was all written before Sleepless Nights, so to those still wanting me to update that one; don't worry ☺.
> 
> If there are things you feel I should tag but didn't think of, please tell me!

Freddie was fascinated by the unit that was _Brian-and-Roger_. Had been since Tim had introduced his mates from Smile, when he first saw that cherubic face with a devilish glint in his eyes, when he saw the gravity-defying curls falling into a kind face, both entwined so tightly they seemed to be more one person rather than two.

There was just something about them, but Freddie couldn't quite put his fingers on it.

Don't get him wrong; they bitched at each other until either Roger's temper exploded, or Brian became glacier-cold, or both, and even then, they still took it further. Tim usually just took five when that happened, or you know, forty-five. It either took Roger throwing something or Brian walking off to stop their fights. When Tim left, Freddie kept with the tradition usually; only breaking it up when it seriously cut into their music. That, Freddie would not tolerate.

What was truly fascinating, though, was how they would find each other again, after their tempers had time to cool off, and proceeded to fall into their spaces so closely, Freddie thought they had to be sharing the same breath more often than not.

He watched Roger lean up and into Brian, completely at ease; watched Brian absentmindedly pat Roger's golden hair. Watched, for months, how they did this complex dance around each other, so completely in sync that there was little room for anyone else left. Freddie would've pitied Tim, early on, in a way, but the one time he brought it up with him, Tim had laughed, and said he was fine with it as long as they didn't drag him into it. It was different when Freddie joined, though. He couldn’t _not_ get involved, and strangely, he seemed to fit in the spaces they left open.

When him and Roger opened a stall at Kensington Market, Freddie got to experience Roger for the first time without Brian for a prolonged measure of time – and he was all the more fascinated by them.

Roger was both more energetic and yet less, without Brian around. For one, he was less grounded, and Freddie had found a partner in crime for it, as it seemed that Roger was just waiting for doing some dumb shit - they were banned from four bars in less than two months, a feat which they both delighted at.

At the same time, Roger was, or seemed completely without direction. He went through girl after girl after girl (and likely some blokes too, although Roger kept that on the down low). Freddie had tried to keep track of the people he saw Roger with at first, but after a week he gave up. When Roger was around Brian though, he seemed truly focused, truly at ease with himself, as if Brian brought out something in Roger only he could.

It all started to make sense to Freddie a few months later.

Roger and him had been looking for a flat together, scouring paper after paper, killing time at their stall; it was January, cold and wet, and there had been a total of two customers all day. Freddie, good friend that he was, had been trying to work out the kinks out of Roger's back, with little success.

"I keep telling you, darling, it's your neck that's causing you this foul headache and foul mood," Freddie said to Roger.

"It's not my neck," Roger insisted. "Who's studying biology?"

"You're studying dentistry," Freddie corrected, hand moving up to Roger's neck, only to have it slapped away.

"Well, I'm thinking of switching majors anyway," Roger said petulantly. Freddie raised an eyebrow.

"Well, if you think that's best, blondie. I hope it gives you a bit more of a challenge, then." While they both knew it was Brian who was the true academic between the three of them, Roger was no dull crayon in the box either.

"Will you stop _doing_ that," Roger snapped, pinching Freddie in his arm rather hard, trying to get him to leave his neck alone.

"Don't be so dramatic, Roggie. Just let me do what I do." Freddie wriggled his fingers suggestively. "I've had no complaints so far." Roger tried to glare for a moment longer, before he burst into delighted laughter. Roger was easy to anger, but just as easy to make him laugh, and Freddie privately thought some deity must have blessed Roger when he was born, because his laughter was just shy of magic.

"Oh, _fine_ , you rotter," Roger said. "Just be careful, I'm sensitive there."

"Don't worry dearest, I'll hit _all_ the right spots." He carefully got to work, moving Roger's tangled mess of hair aside to get better access after a moment. Roger's head fell forward, and he groaned appreciatively at the steady pressure Freddie was providing. Freddie tuned out the sound for both his sake and Roger's, instead focusing on his work.

His eyes fell on a small scar high on Roger's neck, almost at his hairline. It was shaped like a shadow of a flying bird, though likely by accident.

"What's this then?" Freddie asked, rubbing over the scar. Roger, who had been completely lax just a minute ago, tensed, moving away from Freddie’s hands.

"Shearing accident, can you believe it?" He said, tone light but – something was off about it. Freddie frowned. "Last time I ever try and cut my hair myself." Freddie cackled, train of thought momentarily forgotten.

"Poor thing you," he cooed. Roger raised his fingers in a rude gesture.

"It hurt like a bitch," he said indignantly. "Also, thanks, I _do_ feel much better," Roger said, getting up and cracking his neck.

"If you're sure, darling," Freddie said slowly, somehow feeling out of balance. He watched as Roger arranged his hair carefully, fingers lingering for a moment where the scar was hidden now. He dropped it when he saw Freddie watching keenly.

Months later, the other penny dropped.

Freddie was helping Brian getting rid of some gum that had landed in his hair from an over-enthusiastic fan, when she had all but thrown herself at the unsuspecting guitarist.

Brian was being a fucking prima donna about it, too, and Freddie felt himself quickly losing his patience.

"Brian, I promise you no one would notice if we cut of a bit, with you having a bird's nest for hair –"

"If you come near me with those scissors you'll find parts gone you'll be missing," Brian threatened.

"I swear you're worse than my sister - worse than even _me_ –" Freddie huffed. "Just let me –" but then he suddenly stopped.

High on Brian's neck, right under his hairline, was a tiny speck of silver, twinkling at Freddie cheerfully in all its bird-shaped glory.

Holy _shit_.

That was the same as Roger’s.

Brian and Roger were _soulmates_.

Freddie could've smacked himself with how blind he had been. Of course they practically lived in each others pockets, they were fucking _star-crossed_ –

"Uh, Fred?" Brian said suddenly, wary of the sudden stillness.

"Sorry, lovie," Freddie said breathlessly. "Just seen that funny, err –" He didn't know how to breach the subject - everyone had different ways to handle soulmates, and neither Roger nor Brian had even alluded to it.

"What do you – oh, you mean the scar."

"Scar," Freddie echoed tonelessly.

"Yes, the wavy grey scar, right?" Brian asked. Freddie goggled at him. Was he fucking _blind_?

"Right," Freddie muttered.

"Yes, I suppose it's quite funny looking. No idea what's it from really, maybe a shearing accident – _which reminds me_ –" Brian continued bitching about his hair, but Freddie couldn't hear him over the roaring of his own blood.

Either Brian was pretending to be clueless, which, fair enough, as it was his own business (and Roger's) or he truly was clueless and his friends were the dumbest sods on earth –

But the way Roger had reacted to the scar all those months ago didn't add up. Which could mean all kinds of things, but –

No. Freddie _had_ to be wrong.

(Freddie _hoped_ he was wrong.)

**Author's Note:**

> How did you like this part?
> 
> PS: The Kitty in Freddie's moodboard is my cat ♥
> 
> Your thoughts are always welcome :)


End file.
